


Special Ingredient

by xXdreameaterXx



Series: Arrows of Eros [6]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Brownies, Drug Use, Drugs, F/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 13:06:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5164919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXdreameaterXx/pseuds/xXdreameaterXx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a Tumblr Prompt: Apparently the Brownies I ate were a bit. . . special. The Doctor accidentally eats hash brownies and Clara has to deal with a stoned Time Lord. Whouffaldi. Twelve x Clara.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special Ingredient

**Author's Note:**

> Rated T for drug use. The song mentioned is "All Revved Up With No Place To Go" by Meat Loaf. I'm sorry. I had to. I fucking love Meat Loaf.

Clara placed the brownie plate on her kitchen table and eyed it for a moment. It was a good idea, she told herself, they shouldn’t go to waste. She left the kitchen, searched her wardrobe for something nice to wear to the party tonight and went to take a long, hot shower. The dress she had chosen was casual, but still elegant and Clara brushed her hair neatly and applied a small layer of make up and eyeliner to her face.  
However when she stepped back into the kitchen she found a surprise.  
“Doctor!” she exclaimed, “What are you doing here tonight?”  
“Oh, I just stopped by to see if you were free cause I was bored and kind of missed you. I see you’ve had a wash – that was very thoughtful of you. Even though I prefer the other smell that you use, you know, the coconut one.”  
Clara raised an eyebrow at him. Why was he being so nice and. . . honest?  
“I’m actually going to a-,” she stopped mid-sentence when she noticed the empty plate in front of him.  
“Doctor,” she asked warily, “Where are the brownies?”  
“Oh, I ate them. I hope you don’t mind,” the Doctor replied casually.  
“All of them?!” she blurted out, horrified.  
“Well, I didn’t mean to. I started with one. . . or two. But then I got hungry and you really took long to get out of the shower. In fact, I’m still hungry. Do you have anything else at home?”  
“Oh dear,” Clara muttered, not knowing what to say. She wasn’t even sure if she should tell him, but she concluded that she should before he got into his TARDIS and himself into trouble.  
“Is something wrong, Clara? Your eyes are doing the very pretty but slightly worrying thing.”  
He made a gesture that Clara understood as imitation of her horrified look. And had he just called her eyes pretty?  
“Doctor, those brownies weren’t regular brownies,” she began carefully.  
He raised his eyebrows at her.  
“You know how humans sometimes like to use. . . herbs to, erm, for recreational purposes?” Clara's voice went up a little too much at the end of the sentence and she waited for the Doctor to nod, “You can smoke them, or. . . put them in brownies?”  
“Clara, are you telling me I just consumed some human drugs?”  
She nodded. And to her surprise he burst into laughter.  
“What’s so funny now? I am late to a party and I don’t have time to take care of a stoned Time Lord,” Clara complained angrily.  
“Clara,” he said, followed by a tsk tsk sound, “I am a 2000 year old, superior, alien being. I am not effected by some silly hash brownies.”  
Clara eyed him suspiciously, not believing a single word of that last sentence. He was definitely not acting like his normal self and she would not let him out of her sight until the effects had worn off.  
“Should I ask why you keep hash brownies in your kitchen?” he asked with a smirk.  
She sighed. “I confiscated them from my students today. And I thought I’d bring them to the party tonight so they don’t go to waste. But that party seems to be cancelled now.”  
“Nooo, don’t say that,” the Doctor got up from his chair, “We could go together. Wouldn’t that be fun? I’ve never met your friends except for P.E. and I didn’t like him.”  
Clara snorted. “I am definitely not taking you to the party tonight, not while you’re high as a kite.”  
“I told you, your human drugs don’t effect Time Lords. But if you don’t want to go to the party, at least let’s go and get something to eat. I’m starving and I know a nice, little restaurant on Zyperton 6,” the Doctor suggested enthusiastically and was about to rush to his TARDIS when Clara grabbed his arm.  
“You are not flying the TARDIS like this. In your state we’ll end up inside a supernova.”  
“But supernovas are fun,” he replied, bending down to look at her and Clara immediately took a step back, slightly frightened by how close he got all of a sudden.  
“Okay, suggestion: How does pizza sound? We can order any kind you want.”  
His eyes lit up. “I want every kind.”  
“Good,” Clara replied, “Good. Why don’t you go into the living room and make yourself comfortable while I order? Just stay away from the TARDIS “  
“Yes,” he said with a broad grin, “Boss.”

Clara sighed as soon as she was alone in the kitchen. She had been looking forward to a completely ordinary night out with friends, some normal human fun, and now she was stuck with a stoked Time Lord. The drugs might not have the same effect as they would on a human being, but they _definitely_ had _some_ effect.  
She picked up the phone and was about to dial the number of her favourite pizza delivery service when suddenly an incredibly loud noise came from the next room, forcing Clara to cover her ears.  
“Doctor,” she shouted as she walked into the living room, “What the hell is going on?”  
Apparently the Doctor didn't hear her. He was standing on the sofa, the amp positioned on her coffee table and he was playing his electric guitar very, very loudly. She didn't even bother trying to recognize the song before she unplugged the cable from the amplifier.  
“Clara,” he looked at her with sad, disappointed eyes, pouting, “What did you do that for? I was about to play you a song.”  
“You can play me a song – quietly,” she told him, “I'm not alone in this building. I have neighbours.”  
The Doctor's pout turned even sadder.  
“No, don't even try that,” Clara warned him, “I like your music, you know that, but the volume is unacceptable.”  
At this moment the doorbell rang and Clara groaned, knowing it could one be one of her neighbours. She went to open it to the old lady who lived across the hall.  
“Good evening, Mrs Hutchens,” Clara said sweetly, “I am terribly sorry about the noise earlier. I promise I'll keep it down.”  
The old woman scolded her with her glance. “Thank you, that's what I had come to talk to you about. I almost fell out of my bed.”  
“I'm sorry, Mrs Hutchens. I have a friend over and he is _profoundly deaf_. He didn't _realize_ it was _that_ loud. I'm very sorry, it won't happen again,” Clara lied.

The old woman nodded understandingly and luckily gave her trying to lecture her. When Clara stepped back into the living room, she found the Doctor sitting on her couch, head propped up in his hands, sulking.  
“Doctor?” she asked carefully.  
“Go away, Clara,” he mumbled into his palms and suddenly Clara felt a pang of pity for him. He was already very enthusiastic and the brownies seemed to have made that slightly worse and it wasn't even his fault, he hadn't known what was in them. The least she could do was to be nice to him (and maybe take some pictures of the embarrassing things he was probably going to do later) until it passed.  
“Doctor,” Clara said with a sigh as she sank into the sofa cushions next to him, placing an arm around his shoulder, “Don't be like that.”  
He turned around to look at her through his sad, grey eyes. “Are you ashamed of me?” he asked out of the blue.  
Clara laughed nervously. “Why would I be ashamed of you? You're my friend, remember?”  
“You keep saying that, but ever since I've changed you've kept me pretty much separated from your _human life_ ,” he spat the last part as if it was something disgusting, “You got mad at me when I was posing as the school caretaker. You don't introduce me to your friends. The last time I saw your family was at Christmas dinner when I still had my old face. Admit it, you don't want to be seen with me. You don't want to be seen with _the old dude_.”  
“That's not true,” Clara replied immediately.  
“Isn't it?” he raised an eyebrow at her, “I'm trying so hard to be cool for you, but I'll never be as cool as _Bowtie_ , will I?”  
She burst into laughter. “You're trying to be cool? For me? The outfit, the guitar playing, the sonic specs, that's for _me_?”  
The Doctor turned his face away from her and Clara realized that she had indeed been trying to keep her out of her normal life, but for entirely different reasons.  
“You've changed faces, yes. It doesn't matter what you look like now or what you've looked like before, I don't care about that. It's just that it's hard to explain to my family why my friend the Doctor suddenly turned grey and Scottish without telling them that you abduct me on a weekly basis in your Time Machine.”  
His only reply was a sad sigh.  
Clara rolled her eyes. She was going to regret this bitterly. “Doctor, do you want to come to the party with me?”  
When he turned back to face her a huge grin was spread across the Doctor's face. “I thought you'd never ask!”

It took almost ten minutes to talk the Doctor out of taking the TARDIS but eventually Clara convinced him to walk the short distance and a while later they arrived at the party. His spirits had lifted by the time they arrived, or they had gotten ever better than before and Clara assumed that the special ingredient of the brownies was starting to really kick in now. She prayed that he wouldn't do something too embarrassing while at the same time keeping her camera phone very close. If the Doctor misbehaved she vowed to tease him about it mercilessly until the end of time. She also vowed to not let him out of her sight.  
Which was what proved to be the most difficult task. The Doctor was bursting with energy. One moment he was standing next to Clara, the next he was talking to someone she didn't know or rearranging the book shelf, from which she quickly dragged him away, yet not without protest from his side.  
“Clara, you need to loosen up a bit,” he said happily, spreading his arms wide, “We're at a party!”  
“Yes,” she hissed in reply, “I know that and we're here under the condition that you behave. Can you do that?”  
“Of course I can, Clara,” then he winked at her, “But that doesn't mean I'm going to. I'm not called the Rebel Time Lord for nothing.”  
“You call yourself that!”  
“Yes, or do you prefer Doctor Disco?”  
“I'd prefer it if you stayed out of trouble,” Clara replied. 

It wasn't long until she lost track of him again while Clara was talking to a friend in the kitchen. She turned around and the Doctor was gone. For a moment she was beginning to worry until the heard a very loud and very familiar sound coming from another room.  
“Is that an electric guitar?” her friend asked, “That's a bit weird. I didn't notice that someone brought one.”  
Clara forced a smile before she turned around and followed the noise. 

_When I played my guitar I made the canyons rock, but every Saturday night I felt the fever grow. Do you know what it's like – all revved up with no place to go?_

The Doctor was easily found. In fact, it would have been hard not to see him rocking his guitar on the dining room table. How the hell had he smuggled it past her? For a moment she was mad at him, but then she noticed that everyone else seemed to love his show. And he sang really well, obviously enjoying the cheering people gathering around the table to watch him.  
Clara positioned herself somewhere near the door, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, trying to look stern. When she spotted her, he granted her a big smile.

_I was nothing but a lonely boy looking out for something new. And you were nothing but a lonely girl but you were something, something like a dream come true._

_Stop flirting_ , she thought to herself. It wasn't going to work on her. 

_In the middle of a steamy night I'm tossing in my sleep. And in the middle of a red-eyed dream I see you coming, coming on to give it to me._

Clara bit down on her lip. This was definitely not working. She was so going to scold him for bringing the guitar. The Doctor winked at her. 

_Oh baby, I'm a hunter in the dark of the forest, I've been stalking you and tracking you down. We could be standing at the top of the world instead of sinking further down in the mud._

He ended the song by sliding down on his knees and giving a whole-hearted, passionate solo and everyone in the room was clapping and cheering and asking for another song but the Doctor slowly tumbled down the table, swung the guitar around his back and made his way across the room towards her. Clara raised his eyebrows at him.  
“Did you like it?” he asked enthusiastically.  
“How did you manage to bring the guitar here?” she asked him, trying to sound mad, but obviously failing.  
The Doctor only shrugged. “Time Lord pockets. Bigger on the inside. I'm hungry now. Can we get food?”  
Clara laughed. “Yes, we can get food. Do you wanna eat here or shall we go back to my place and order some pizza?”  
“Your place sounds good. Pizza sounds even better. Oh, and I learned something new today, overheard some of the people talking,” he said as they made their way through the corridor and Clara opened the door to the outside.  
“What did you learn?” she asked curiously, stepping out into the fresh night air.  
“Apparently, it's something that's supposed to be fun and I want to try it,” he said happily.  
“Okay, what is it?”  
“Netflix and chill. We can do that, can't we, Clara?”  
Clara's eyes widened and shortly after she broke out into laughter. “Doctor, do you even know what that means?”  
“No, but it sounds fun. Wanna try it? Apparently, it's what friends do nowadays.”  
“Doctor,” she said, still laughing, “It's most certainly not what _friends_ do. It's just a nice way of saying that they're going to meet to have sex.”  
“Oh,” he muttered and suddenly seemed to find his own feet very fascinating as he kept staring at them while he walked.  
“Don't worry,” Clara tried to cheer up him as she took him by the arm, “At least you didn't find out the hard way like I did. I was invited for Netflix and chill by Danny back then. I had no clue. And I really was not prepared.”  
“Why would that require preparation?”  
“Well, shaving, picking nice lingerie, stuff like that,” Clara said and the Doctor suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, staring at her as if he was seeing her in a completely different light right now.  
“Stop gawking, Doctor,” she raised her eyebrows, “And stop looking at me like that.”  
“Like what?”  
“Like you're picturing me in lingerie right now.”  
“I'm sorry,” the Doctor replied immediately and resumed walking. He remained quiet for a while and Clara was starting to wonder what was going on in his mind.  
“I think the brownies did have some effect,” he admitted after a while.  
Clara giggled. “I'm glad you noticed. But it's not that bad, not for the amount you ate. Any human would probably a drooling, hallucinating mess right now.”  
“Probably,” he repeated, “But I don't quite feel myself. There are some really weird thoughts in my head, and they're really loud.”  
“Like what?” Clara asked curiously and the Doctor stopped again, looking at her.  
“Like your lips.”  
“My lips?”  
“Yes, they look really soft,” he explained.  
“Soft?” Clara frowned at him.  
“Yes, like, if I were to put my lips on yours, I think it would feel very soft.”  
She giggled nervously. “Okay, Doctor, you're really stoned. That makes no sense at a-”

Her words were cut off when the Doctor suddenly stepped forward and pressed his mouth on hers. Clara let out a tiny squeal in her surprise but soon relaxed and closed her eyes, even allowing him inside her mouth. He was a clumsy and sloppy kisser, but Clara blamed it on his befuddled state.  
After a moment he pulled away and quickly tumbled backwards as if the reality of what he had done just hit him.  
“Sorry,” the Doctor mumbled quickly.  
“No, don't apologize,” Clara said, giving him a smile, “It was nice. Different, but nice.”  
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “So there's still hope for Netflix and chill?”  
Clara laughed and gently tousled his hair to take revenge for that last comment. “Maybe some other time,” she said playfully, “Now let's go back to my place and order that pizza.”  
“Ah, yes, pizza. I'd forgotten I was hungry.”  
“Good, let's go then,” Clara decided and took him by the hand before they started to walk back to her apartment.


End file.
